


(i don't know) where i'm supposed to go

by Carmailo



Series: Voltron One Shots [19]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Set around season 4, Shameless Cowboy Flirting, aPPRECIATE THE WORK I PUT IN, and then it became this, ft. Gay Alien Cowboy and his Bisexual Boyfriend, it took me a long time to post and then i accidentally posted it 4 times, lotsa angst, or it started like that, which took a long time to delete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15417366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmailo/pseuds/Carmailo
Summary: "You can’t just be told something and expected to have all the memories and feelings associated with that something be placed into your mind."This, Keith supposes, might be true.So where have the memories and feelings gone?





	(i don't know) where i'm supposed to go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_am_a_Ruin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Ruin/gifts).



> Canon divergence! The bulk of it is set after/around seasons 4+5, before Keith comes back from the blade.  
> title from [fool](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iA1z5vXzoRg) by cavetown!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> ( gifted to a very important person - I hope you like this!) 

“Come back to me,” Lance whispers, his foot jammed in the door to keep it from locking him out. The cold bites at his exposed collarbones and he tries not to shiver.

“I will,” Keith promises, eyes determined and dead-set.

Lance frowns, holding his jacket tighter. With his free hand, he reaches out and runs a thumb over Keith’s cheekbone. Keith leans into the touch, shutting his eyes.

“Be careful,” Lance insists, “don’t get caught.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Keith smirks, but it’s soft around the edges. And then, he’s taking a few backward steps away from Lance and running into the night, his red jacket flapping in the wind.

“You’d better not die,” Lance sighs to himself.

He watches the night a moment longer before turning his back.

✦✧✦

“Who are you?”

Lance’s heart stops for half a second before he’s pressing on. An act - that’s what it is. Hunk and Pidge hadn’t known about them, so it makes sense.

“Uh, the name’s Lance? We were in the same class at the Garrison?”

“Really, are you, uh, an engineer?”

 _Laying it on thick, Keith. Nice,_ Lance thinks.

So he pretends to go along with it. And Keith is impressed when Lance tells him he’s a fighter pilot, right? He says congratulations.

As a little inside joke, Lance plays up their stupid rivalry that had only really lasted a month or so before… everything else between them.

So Lance smirks to himself, hides smiles through the jabs and teases, until his hidden smile is too tight, even though he’s only smiling for himself.

Since when had he started pretending to himself?

And maybe it’s because Keith seems to be genuinely against Lance. He’s just making it a big deal in front of the others, right? He’s just joking around, and long after everyone else has fallen asleep, Keith will sneak into Lance’s room and hold his hands, pressing soft kisses to his face until Lance forces him away so they can at least get _some_ sleep.

But Keith doesn’t sneak into Lance’s room.

Keith doesn’t even acknowledge Lance outside of their bickering, doesn’t even offer an explanation.

It doesn’t take long for Lance to adopt a legitimate distaste for the red paladin.

Something is very, very wrong.

✦✧✦

“Could I talk to you?”

Keith looks up from the tablet in his hands, brows furrowing at the sight of Lance, a scowl crossing his face.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or talk about how much you’d just _love_ to see a space-monkey, or something equally as stupid, leave.”

Lance frowns, trying to mask the flash of hurt on his face.

“I was going to ask why you’ve been like this to me,” Lance admits. “And space-monkeys are _not_ stupid.”

“Like what?” Keith deadpans, ignoring the second comment and straightening his posture.

“How you’ve been, this entire time,” Lance says, waving his hands expressively, “we’ve both been, like, extremely rude.”

“That’s all your fault,” Keith says, crossing his arms, tablet forgotten on the desk at his hip, “you started the whole rivalry thing.”

“Yeah, but I thought we were past that. It was just a front for everything else. If you don’t like me anymore, just say so.” Lance shrugs.

“Everything else?” Keith asks, eyes narrowing.

Lance raises an eyebrow, eyes flitting away for a split second, “well, yeah.”

“What… _”everything else”?_ ” Keith asks.

“Oh, ha, ha, Keith, funny joke.” Lance rolls his eyes.

“I’m not kidding. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lance’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. “You… don’t?”

“...No?” Keith raises one of his brows, “should I?”

“Don’t you remember?” Lance asks, heart seconds from shattering.

“ _No,_ Lance, I don’t.”

Lance is quiet, processing.

“I’m sorry,” Lance apologizes. “I’ll go,” he turns.

Keith’s frown remains, but he doesn’t push, instead choosing to turn back to his tablet.

“Uh,” Lance starts, halfway to the door.

“Yeah?” Keith prompts, angling himself towards Lance again.

“What happened? After you left the Garrison?”

Silence fills the air for a moment before Lance looks back at Keith. With only a minute pause, Keith turns fully toward Lance, studying him.

“I was expelled, and went to live in my shack… the details are sort of fuzzy, though,” Keith shrugs. “Why? Do you know something about it?”

“Just humour me for now, if you will,” Lance answers.

“Fine,” Keith replies, picking up his tablet. He presses something on the screen before saying, “anything else?”

Lance half-turns back to Keith and considers. “What about the time leading up to you getting booted?”

Keith pauses, freezes, almost, as though looking back for the first time.

“It’s…” Silence stretches.

Keith raises his head away from his screen, eyes sliding over to Lance’s. “Almost like something is missing.”

“Huh,” Lance says, baffled.

“...Why? Do you know something that I don’t?” Keith inquires, suspicion colouring his words.

“I… I’m not sure of anything, yet.”

Keith purses his lips, knitting his brows. “Tell me if you figure something out,” Keith asks, and who is Lance to deny that?

“Yeah,” he nods, “yeah, of course.”

Their stupid rivalry suddenly seems to run much deeper than Lance had thought it did.

✦✧✦

A knock at the door has Lance standing from his bed, “it’s unlocked.”

“Uh…” Keith holds himself uneasily in the door, arms wrapping loosely around his torso self-consciously.

“Hey,” Lance says, friendly, amicable. In the wake of Shiro’s disappearance, their “rivalry” had died down considerably, and the pair had become something akin to friends. 

Keith’s unsettled expression shifts a little bit in relation to the kind greeting. “Hi,” he starts, “sorry for waking you.”

“Nah,” Lance yawns, one hand coming up to cover his mouth and the other hand flapping dismissively, “wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“You’re tired, so... I’ll make this short.” Keith begins, but he doesn’t continue.

“Take all the time you need,” Lance insists, leaning against the wall.

“Are you sure?” Keith asks.

“I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anyways,” Lance shrugs.

“Lance, are you-... are you not sleeping okay?”

“It’s fine,” Lance says dismissively, “I’ve gotten used to it. Usually, I just keep myself awake until I’m exhausted and then use that tiredness to fall asleep the next few nights. It’s a system,” Lance says, already becoming his normal, chipper self, all traces of fatigue falling away.

“Oh… um, okay.” Keith says, absently reaching up to push his hair out of his face. It slides back into place a second later, though, the effort wasted on himself. On Lance, however, the gesture is not; it’s a familiar one, and it makes his heart do flips he didn’t think he’d be feeling anytime soon.

“C’mon, Keith. You’re killing me,” Lance laughs, trying to dispel Keith’s sudden nervousness.

“Right. Sorry.” Keith takes a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself, and begins, “remember how, a few months ago, around the time before Shiro… disappeared, when you asked if I remembered stuff from around the time I got expelled?”

“Yeah,” Lance nods. Of course he does. That evening had danced through Lance’s subconscious frequently, a constant reminder of the Keith he doesn’t have anymore. “Why?”

“I think I might’ve remembered something,” Keith says, eyes flitting away. He crosses his arms.

“And you came here to share?” Lance asks, though not unkindly.

“It has to do with you, so…”

Lance exhales, sighing as he nods, turning to his bed. Shoving aside the covers, he sits down and then pats the space beside himself. “I get that. You can sit, if you want.”

Keith’s eyes become glued to the indicated spot, and he studies it, staring holes into it before he makes a motion to move closer to the bed. He pauses, hovering a mere inch or two away, before setting himself down on the smallest sliver he can manage.

They’re quiet, then, Keith shifting in his spot, fidgeting with his fingers. After a few moments, Lance slides even further back, crossing his legs and pressing his back to the wall. He reaches under his pillow and produces a tablet - one of the five recreational ones Allura had given out to the Earthlings as a sort of souvenir of Altean technologies, and something to do with as they choose in their downtime.

Of course, the design had intrigued Pidge; two sleek metal bars that interlocked when the tablet was off, and could be pulled apart to create a holographic screen of nearly any desired dimension.

The bars of Lance’s tablet, like the other paladin’s tablets, had started out a dull grey colour. Of course, Lance had immediately asked Coran for paint, or it’s closest Altean counterpart, and started painting it, meticulous so as not to block the parts of the bars that attached or projected the screen. Now, instead of grey, the bars are blue. Tiny rose vines snake their ways around the bars, creating a pattern that Keith can’t quite discern.

The screen, still preset to orange on Keith’s tablet, comes to life, a bright blue painting Lance’s face. Wincing, Lance taps something and turns the brightness all the way down.

Keith purses his lips, watching Lance tap a few buttons before a tinkling game tune is being played. Lance’s face screws up in concentration, and he taps at the screen, trying to win at whatever game he’s playing. The expression tickles at something in the back of Keith’s mind, and he frowns, trying to grasp it. 

“Wanna play?” Lance asks, startling Keith. 

“Um,” Keith starts, shifting back to better see the screen, “I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay,” Lance says, scooting closer and holding out the tablet between them, “I’ll teach you.”

“Okay,” Keith agrees, not pushing Lance away when he presses their shoulders together and turns halfway to hold the screen out.

“So you just hit this and the little dude moves,” Lance demonstrates. 

“This?” Keith asks, touching the button.

“Yeah! And now you just gotta…” Lance trails off, pointing at something else. He starts talking again, explaining the game better, but Keith stops listening.

There’s something about the way they’re sitting; the way they press against each other comfortably and Lance’s fingers glow against the screen. The way Keith’s hands, nails stubby from being messily cut, contrast against Lance’s finely-manicured fingers and warm skin so starkly. It all continues to touch the back of Keith’s consciousness, pressing against it and making him try to remember something.

One of the first things Shiro learned about Keith was that he is a crier despite his hardy exterior. He cried the first time he watched _The Notebook,_ and he cried when his beta fish of two years, Destructo-Raptor, died. He cried when he came to the realization that he’s perhaps more vulnerable than he had thought. He cries when he’s overwhelmed, and he’s at least somewhat overwhelmed most of the time.

So, Keith isn’t surprised when tears spring to his eyes. And for some reason, Lance isn’t, either, when Keith’s face is suddenly streaked, and his hands are shaking.

“It’s okay,” Lance assures, leaning into Keith. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, and Keith is thankful for it. How does Lance know that Keith doesn’t like being looked at when he cries?

“I just…” Keith’s vision blurs even more, so he presses the tablet back into Lance’s hands and scrubs at his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Lance says, “I know.”

“No- something’s _missing,_ ” Keith says, frustration making his face blotchy and breaths hitch.

And somehow, by some sort of magic, Lance knows just what to do. He puts his arm around Keith’s shoulders and lets him lean into him.

“Tell me what you remembered?” Lance suggests, and Keith nods.

“You.” he says, voice small and broken.

Lance stays quiet, but he nods, letting his head come to rest on Keith’s as he shifts them both back against the wall.

“In your Garrison uniform. Smiling at something. Telling me about it, I think.”

Lance hums in understanding before asking, “is it okay if I try to get you to remember better?”

Keith sniffles, wiping at his eyes. His throat is still choked, but he tries to ignore it. Sliding out from under Lance’s hold, Keith shuts his eyes and tilts his head up, feeling the cool from the wall’s metal seep into the top of his head.

“Please,” Keith says, “I want to remember.”

“Garrison. I’m smiling, I’m in uniform. Why would I ever smile in that god-awful uniform?”

“Test scores?” Keith wonders, opening his eyes, "class placements?"

Lance lets his head fall back, “your guess is as good as mine.”

“Why were we together if we were rivals at the time?” Keith asks.

“You’re pretty smart. I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

“Tell me,” Keith says.

“I can’t,” Lance insists.

“Why not?”

“I can’t just tell you. I know as much as you do, and the last thing I want is to accidentally trigger something and make everything else go wrong.”

“You won’t.”

“How are you so sure?”

“How're you?”

Lance purses his lips. “Look, I can’t tell you because there’s a lot of stuff that happened that led up to whatever moment you’re thinking of. I can’t just _say_ it, because you - in general, not specifically Keith - can’t just be told something and expected to have all the memories and feelings associated with that something be placed into your mind.”

Keith scowls, but he seems to get it and doesn’t press.

“Anything else you remember?” Lance inquires, picking up his tablet again and resuming the game he’d been playing.

“Something to do with memories and bright lights.” Keith shrugs.

“Bright lights like a stadium or like a city?”

“Like an examination table, I guess.”

“Memories like wanting to remember or someone mentioning memories?”

“The second.”

Lance holds his chin, dropping his tablet again. “So, an examination table and someone mentioning memories. At the same time?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods. “Almost seems like…”

“What?” Lance prompts, but he thinks he’s got it figured out.

“Don’t make fun of me, but… Almost sort of like someone… selectively removed memories, I guess?”

“It’s a big leap from just two clues,” Lance states, and sighs out, “but I was thinking the same thing.”

✦✧✦

“You don’t have to go,” Lance insists, watching as Keith shoves his few belongings into a bag.

“I know. I’m going anyways.” Keith tugs his bag shut, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He tries to step into the hall, but Lance is leaning in his doorway, taking up most of the space.

Lance sighs. “The Blades are kind of psycho when it comes to dying. Don’t die,” Lance says.

“I won’t,” Keith insists, about to shove past.

“Keith.” Lance says, demanding attention. Keith’s eyes find Lance’s.

“Come back to me.”

A flicker of a memory tickles at Keith’s mind. Lance, holding his jacket tight around himself as he tells Keith to come back safely. Keith, nodding and promising to as night air whips his hair around his face.

“I will,” Keith says.

“That’s… Do you remember, then?” Lance asks.

“I… I’m not sure. A little.”

“Better than none,” Lance murmurs absently. “Just… come back,” he adds, and then steps out of Keith’s way and lets him go.

✦✧✦

Kolivan slams the butt of his sword into Keith’s temple, and black spots burst in his vision. This, however, is not what takes Keith out. His consciousness slips away when the breath is knocked out of him and his head hits the training room floor. _Hard._

And then it’s flashes of colours.

It’s spring and Keith is buying flowers. A huge bouquet of flowers that he doesn’t know the names of to save his life. He pays a lot - he passes over two twenty-dollar bills. And then he turns around and presses the flowers into Lance’s hands. Lance laughs, and then it’s winter and Keith is kicking snow around in the Garrison yard, at an hour well past midnight. He balls some up and chucks it at Lance, who comes running over and shoves a handful down the back of Keith’s uniform. Keith shudders and then he’s in a dark dorm room, hands at the hem of his shirt and lips on his neck. _It’s Lance,_ he thinks, _Lance, Lance, Lance, Lance, Lance_. And then he’s in a Garrison classroom, bored out of his mind, and then he’s defending himself against Iverson’s fists, a pen snatched off the desk and then plunged into the commander’s eye socket.

Keith’s eyes fly open and he sits up at once, clutching at the ghost of hands on his chest, some roaming lovingly and some grappling for purchase during a fight.

“Keith,” Kolivan says, “you have to-”

“I need to see Lance,” Keith interrupts, “now.”

“The… blue paladin?” Kolivan asks, raising an eyebrow as he connects the name with Keith’s human acquaintances.

“Yes. The blue paladin.” Keith nods shakily, “now.”

He gets to his feet, legs feeling like jelly and hands shaking with a sudden anxiety.

“In person,” he adds.

Kolivan sets his jaw, “it can wait.”

“No!” Keith protests, “it can’t! It really, really can’t!”

Kolivan looks Keith over, seeming to realize that Keith is serious.

“I allow you four vargas. Then you must be back here and in uniform in time for the next briefing.”

“Thank you,” Keith breathes, “thank you, Kolivan.”

And then he takes his shaky body and _runs._

He sprints to the hangar and takes a free ship, pinging the castleship. His hands don’t stop shaking as he presses on the thrusters, flying a little faster than necessary for such a confined space. Coran answers Keith’s call, his familiar face filling the screen. “Keith?”

“Hey, Coran,” Keith says, “I _really_ need to talk to Lance. Are you close by?”

“I can have Allura open a wormhole,” Coran says, “just send me your coordinates.”

“Got it,” Keith says, pressing the few controls to send over the information. Coran’s face disappears, and Keith focusses on slamming the thrusters forward harder.

It starts building up in Keith, then; his memory is suddenly back, and his heart is beating out his chest. Lance- _Lance-_

_You can’t just be told something and expected to have all the memories and feelings associated with that something be placed into your mind._

That whole time… Lance had _known_.

A wormhole opens up in Keith’s path and he presses on the thrusters even harder still.

By the time Keith land his ship, his palms are sweaty and he’s even more jittery. He bursts from his ship, nearly tripping onto his face in his rush to get out. The paladins are just entering when Keith barrels into them, hugging them two at a time before they can embrace him themselves.

“No time to talk,” Keith says, “I’ll explain later, but right now-”

Keith looks around, eyes flitting across the baffled faces of his friends. Lance is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Lance?” he asks.

The paladins glance at each other, before turning back to Keith. “I haven’t seen him today,” Shiro says, “what’s going on, Keith?”

“You haven’t seen- how is that even _possible?_ Whatever, _not important._ I need to talk to him.”

“He might be with Kaltenecker,” Hunk provides.

“Thank you,” Keith says, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“We’ll look, too,” Allura pipes up, “we’ll let you know if we find him.”

“Thanks, princess,” Keith says, unable to help the run he breaks into as he leaves the hangar.

Keith is ready to burst as he runs down halls, peering into rooms and calling for Lance down corridors. Tears are burning at his eyes - he’s so _overwhelmed_ \- when he finally finds Lance, slumped against the wall of a corridor dubbed the _“window hallway”_ by the paladins a few months after moving into the castleship. It’s a long hallway with a solid wall on one side and numerous, wide, circular windows on the other. Lance is slumped against the solid side, staring at the space that lies beyond the window.

His hood is tugged up, and Keith slows to a stop a few feet away.

“Lance?” he asks softly.

Lance looks up, and for a second Keith thinks he’s crying. The spike of fear in his heart is soothed when Keith realizes that Lance’s face is dry, but then he notices the dark bags beneath Lance’s eyes, the exhausted tilt to his usually smiling lips, the way he’s slumped not with relaxation but with fatigue.

Keith isn’t sure if it’d be worse if Lance was crying.

“You’re back,” Lance says.

“Yeah.” Keith nods, “yeah.”

He moves forward again, dropping to his knees beside Lance. He takes one of Lance’s hands tentatively, but Lance pulls his fingers away.

“I don’t- not now, Keith. I’m sorry. I know you just got back and all, but… I’m just not feeling super touchy right now.”

“I remember,” Keith says.

For a minute, nothing happens. Then, all at once, Lance’s face changes. His jaw drops and his eyes blow wide, his back going stick-straight as a fist curls up just above his heart.

“Everything?” Lance breathes.

“Everything,” Keith nods.

“Keith…” Lance breathes softly.

And then he’s moving. Lance throws his arms around Keith’s neck, burying his face into Keith’s shoulder. Keith laughs, wrapping his arms around Lance’s torso.

“You _remember,_ ” Lance whispers.

Keith brings his hands between them, onto Lance’s chest, pulling back from him so that he can look at his face again. Keith laughs, nodding, and Lance brings his hands up to either side of Keith’s face. Keith mirrors this a second later, letting his forehead press against Lance’s.

“I love you,” Keith finally says, “I love you so much.”

Lance laughs, a sound that Keith… honestly hasn’t heard in months. He’s missed it without even realizing it.

His eyes are wet when he says, “I love you, too.”

Keith’s grin is too wide to contain, and he hesitates only a second before pressing kisses to Lance’s face, across the bridge of his nose and to his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead- everywhere he can reach.

Lance is laughing when Keith pulls back enough to see his entire face, but it’s only a moment before Lance is closing the distance again and pressing his lips, warm and insistent, to Keith’s.

Someone slips and they tumble back, landing in a heap on the floor.

They’re still laughing, Lance a warm weight on Keith’s chest, his arms slung low around Lance’s waist.

“I love you so much,” Lance murmurs, just as his giggles slow and sputter to just his smile. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m so sorry,” Keith replies.

“It’s not your fault,” Lance mumbles, “I mean, it really sucked, when I saw you for the first time in a year and you didn’t remember me. I’m just… I’m so glad you’ve got all your memories back.”

“Me too,” Keith says.

“Did you… Do you remember how you lost them, too?”

Keith falls quiet. “Yeah.”

Lance’s brows draw together. He shifts off of Keith, helping him into a sitting position. They slouch next to each other comfortably, their fingers twining together. Keith relishes the contact,  
wishes he’d let Kolivan smack him in the head earlier so he could’ve had this back sooner.

“I dug up some information on the Kerberos mission. A distress signal or something of the like. I threatened the Garrison to release it, was… apprehended, I guess, and then my memories weren’t… erased, per sé, just… fuzzified, or something. I avoided thinking about the Garrison, so I didn’t really realize anything was wrong until you mentioned it. And I got, like… flashes of memories, sometimes, but I thought they were just crazy dreams. Kolivan knocked me to the ground when we were training and I passed out, which is the only reason I remember anything at all.”

Lance tucks closer to Keith, “fuck the Garrison.”

“They were trying to protect themselves,” Keith shrugs, “I get why.”

“They took you away from me,” Lance murmurs, “I got you back, but I had to lose you first.”

Keith frowns and puts his arm around Lance’s shoulders, squeezing. “I’m here now.”

“Good,” Lance says, squeezing Keith’s hand. “Are you okay from your training?”

“Better than okay,” Keith grins, somehow sliding closer still to Lance. “Should we go back to the team?” Keith asks.

“Yeah,” Lance says, standing, “yeah.”

“Should we tell them? About us?” Keith takes Lance’s outstretched hand and gets to his feet.

Lance grins, so Keith raises an eyebrow, his own smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

“We’re an _us_ again. I just… that makes me so happy.”

Keith smiles, “you’re such a sap.”

“And proud,” Lance says, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek. “I missed being able to do that.”

Keith laughs, letting Lance’s arm come around his shoulders, his own going around Lance’s waist. They start making their way back to the bridge like that, laughing at nothing at all and pressing chaste kisses to one another’s faces.

They completely forget to consider the fact that their entire team is waiting for them, and are swinging their joined hands between them as they enter, five sets of eyes swinging to their forms.

“What.” Pidge asks, though she phrases it as a statement.

“Uh,” Keith starts, eloquently.

“Surprise?” Lance asks.

✦✧✦

“That’s just- _god._ ” Pidge says.

Lance, shamelessly with both arms around Keith’s neck, nods, “right?”

“How come you never told anyone?” Hunk asks.

Thankfully, Hunk isn’t one to be upset at an omission of information from his best friend - so long as no one else precedes him in being informed first. He’s asking analytically, and Lance is thankful for the easy forgiveness Hunk gives him.

“We… I dunno,” Lance says, then to Keith, “do you know?”

Keith’s heart warms at the _we._ He’d missed Lance so much, and not even known until a few years had passed. The ache he hadn’t felt had suddenly manifested as an amplified emotion, rendering him completely lost.

“I think we thought it was funny,” Keith adds, “to act like we hated each other.”

“But Lance was hitting on girls,” Pidge reminds, “what about that?”

“I was trying to make him jealous,” Lance says, and then presses his lips to Keith’s cheek, staying there to say, “and now I regret it, I should’ve been kissing Keith’s face in the cafeteria not flirting with girls who weren’t even half as pretty. Except for Allura, she’s gorgeous.”

Lance’s words are muffled, and Keith smiles, “I was also scared of meeting you two. I’m not very good at-”

“I love you,” Lance interrupts.

“I love you more,” Keith replies, undeterred.

“Please tell me you don’t have to go back anytime soon,” Pidge says, “for his sake and your own. And ours. He’s going to be nonstop complaining.”

“Let me have this, Pidge!” Lance exclaims.

“I have four vargas including travel time,” Keith says, “so I’ll be headed back soon-”

“NO!” Lance yells, “NEVER!”

“Lance, my love, darling, yee to my haw,” Keith says, pausing to cup Lance’s face in his hand.

“Did you just use that unironically-” Hunk starts, but Keith continues, “stars in my sky, more analogies I can’t think of right now that mean you are one of the most important people to me in existence, I will be back as soon as I can make time.”

Lance frowns, sort of, and nods, moving his arms to settle around Keith’s waist, his head on the hard plating of Keith’s shoulder.

Keith recognizes the expression as one alluding to dissatisfaction and makes a mental note to talk it out with Lance before leaving.

“Keith…” Allura says, speaking up for the first time since Keith had returned to the bridge with Lance’s fingers in his own, “you still have a place here. With Voltron.”

Keith tries not to bristle, but he shifts uncomfortably, a foot flexing in his boot. “I can help the Blades better,” he shrugs, using the shoulder that Lance isn’t occupying.

“Don’t forget what I said. Before.” Allura reminds.

_The Marmora can go on without you. They have for thousands of years. Voltron cannot._

Keith nods. “Okay.”

He wonders if he’s imagining the tension in the room.

“Can I talk to you?” Lance whispers, “privately?”

Keith nods and puts his arm around Lance’s shoulders and leads them from the bridge without another word.

✦✧✦

Lance sits down onto his covers when they reach his room, but Keith remains standing, arms crossed and hair in his eyes.

They regard each other quietly before Lance says, “sit next to me, Keith, c’mon.”

Keith takes the few steps to the bed without protest, slumping next to Lance. It isn’t long before Keith’s head comes to rest on Lance’s shoulder, a warm hand winding around his back.

Lance sighs.

Keith frowns, “what’s the matter?”

“Stay.” Lance says simply.

Keith stiffens, “I…” he falters. What’s he supposed to say?

“I get you don’t think you can do anything here, but we can use you in combat. You can join us on the ground, and you can be in my lion, and we can all be a big family again,” Lance mumbles.

Keith lifts his head, brow furrowing as he turns to Lance. “You’re still a family.”

“ _We,_ Keith,” Lance corracts, “ _we_ ’re still a family.”

“Yeah,” Keith says, “we’re still a family.”

“But it feels like a piece is missing when you’re not here,” Lance says.

Keith looks away, “I still visit.”

Lance frowns, coaxing Keith’s gaze back with two gentle but persistent fingers on his chin, “barely.”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?” Keith whispers, voice hoarse. He’s made his decision. He won’t stick his foot in the way of Voltron’s progress.

“No,” Lance says, “we’re talking about this.”

“But _why?_ ” Keith asks.

“Because I’m afraid of losing you.” Lance says, voice small.

“Lance…” Keith starts, about spit some spiel about how he’s careful, but he’s _not_. He’s always been reckless, and Lance _knows._

“You- even though you didn’t remember me, at least I had you,” Lance says, “I’m afraid that with the Blade I might lose you forever. I can’t even- I don’t want to even imagine losing you.”

Keith drops his head onto Lance’s shoulder.

“I _know_ what it’s like to be in battle and feel like the only way to win is to sacrifice yourself. But you also have to assess the risk and whether or not it’s worth it. I know the Blades are more dead-set on sacrifice - no pun intended. I don’t want you to become another name on a wall of people who helped fight the war.”

“I won’t,” Keith says.

“I know this is what you want. Or at least what you’ve convinced yourself is what you what. So tell me, Keith, what do you want?”

Keith’s brow pinches tighter and he examines a loose thread on the thigh of Lance’s jeans.

_What do you want?_

Keith mumbles, “to be with the Blade.”

Lance doesn’t react for a moment, and then he deflates. “If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stop you. But the second you wonder if that’s where you really belong, you come straight back. There's always a place for you here.”

Keith nods once, forehead still pressed against the soft material of Lance’s jacket.

“I just want you to be careful,” Lance says, softer, “and it might seem like I’m being selfish, but I just… for everyone on this ship. For Shiro… stay safe. For yourself.”

Keith nods again, with more sincerity. “I’ll be careful,” he adds softly.

“Good,” Lance says, and Keith lifts his head, finding Lance’s hundred-watt beam directed at him.

“Now go kick some ass,” Lance says.

“Okay,” Keith says, “yeah.”

He grins as they head back to the bridge, to say his farewells until he returns.

“See you on the field,” Lance says, pressing a kiss to Keith’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Keith nods, smiling, “I’ll be back soon.”

He gets into his ship and takes off, letting out a breath he feels like he’s been holding for years.

✦✧✦

The next time Keith is in the castle he’s got blood running from a gash somewhere on his head and he’s been stabbed in the abdomen.

Hunk’s half-carrying him to the medbay, hurried mumbles assuring Keith he’ll be okay.

It takes everything in Keith to just keep breathing, his chest rattling with the effort and lungs wheezing.

A routine patrol mission gone wrong. Thankfully, they’d been working alongside Voltron to rescue prisoners of war and to return them to their home planets.

Nowhere in Kolivan’s maps had it said there would be a hidden Galra outpost directly in their perimeter. Keith and another Galra - whose name he couldn’t remember - had been clearing the route when they’d been jumped, a sentry landing on Keith’s back. His teammate had scurried away as soon as he felt overpowered, still new to the Blade, but Keith had stood his ground and fought until the last Galra had fallen. And then he’d sent out a distress signal and dragged himself back to the Marmora’s camp. Hunk, sweet, wonderful, beautiful Hunk, had come for Keith and strapped him into Yellow’s spare seat, jetting off to the castle and telling Keith how lucky they were that they’d managed to get most of the hostages back safe, allowing Hunk to split off from the group.

“We’re gonna take your armour off,” Hunk says, already working at Keith’s cuirass.

Keith has half a mind to help, pressing the button on his wrist that releases his suit’s fit. Hunk wordlessly helps him into one of the white suits for the pod, mumbling something that Keith misses, too busy trying not to black out.

“Alright, buddy, into the pod,” Hunk says, hefting Keith up again.

They make it to a pod and Hunk helps Keith in, pressing the control on the side. Frosted glass comes up around Keith, just as Lance bursts into the room, followed closely by Pidge.

Keith’s eyes meet Lance’s, the fear there sending a wave of guilt washing over Keith, just as he feels sleep tug at him, his eyes falling shut.

_“I just want you to be careful.”_

✦✧✦

Keith wakes with a start, just as the pod’s glass disintegrates.

He stumbles out, catching himself on the edge of the pod and holding himself still. A second later, the pod slides into the ground, and Keith stumbles again, somehow catching himself before he hits the ground. He breathes heavily, standing to his full height. Across the room, on the steps, his uniform is neatly folded, a note set on top of it.

Keith’s brow furrows as he makes his way over, dropping heavily onto the step. He picks up the note, written on pink stationary, and runs his finger over his name, scrawled in Lance’s printing.

_We had to go on a mission so I can’t be here when you’re out_  
I’m really sorry man  
Please eat something and wait until I’m back before you leave. 

_Lance._

The note is short, which could just be the result of Lance rushing to get his words out before heading off on a mission, but Keith feels it in his stomach that this Lance saying he’s not sure what to feel. That he’s a little disappointed and worried and overall completely unsure.

Keith sighs as he drops back, lying on the floor and breathing deeply.

How’s he supposed to make it up to Lance? Sure, he didn’t run headfirst into battle - _this time_ \- but he also didn’t exactly run from it when faced with making an espace or fighting. But that’s probably not it, either - if anything, Lance is upset that he couldn’t be there to protect Keith, couldn’t be there to fight alongside him.

Keith can already feel the talk come up yet _again._ It’s come up in some way every single time Keith has visited - four times in the last month since he’s regained his memory. The topic comes up subtly sometimes; a murmured “wish you didn’t have to go,” of unsaid distaste. And sometimes it’s more, an actual conversation that Keith dismisses with a “don’t ruin our time together, please. This never ends well.”

Keith raises the note again, staring at the paper. It’s almost offensively pink.

He’s really pushed it this time, though. His partner - whatever the fuck his name is, no one cares, _god_ \- had run at an appropriate time, Keith knows this. He’d done what Keith should’ve.

Keith sighs again. Kolivan would not be impressed. Worse, Shiro would not be impressed. Worse still, Lance would not be impressed.

Scratch that, the three of them are past being unimpressed. Rage is probably eating at the first, disappointment the second, and self-blame the third.

Keith sits up, bundling his suit up into his hands. In the meantime, he can eat something. Maybe spar a gladiator while he waits.

Keith changes, and then trudges to the kitchen, really not wanting to deal with whatever bullshit Shiro and Lance are bound to give him.

Slumping into a seat, Keith reaches for the dish that’s already out, tugging off the cover. Steam rises from the small meal there, and Keith frowns. Whatever Hunk’s prepared, it’s spongey and looks sort of like… a twinkie? Keith pokes at it with a finger before taking a spork and cutting into it. The… cake, Keith decides to call it, seems normal enough, aside from being warm, so Keith brings it to his nose and sniffs. It smells like sugar, which is safe enough, so Keith eats it.

It tastes _exactly_ like a twinkie. Warm, for whatever reason, but just like his father’s guilty pleasure nonetheless.

Keith fights the wobble to his chin.

✦✧✦

Lance is warm against Keith, his hands curling in his hair and on the small of his back.

“I’m okay,” Keith says, “it’s okay.”

Lance flexes his jaw, pulling back, “I’m so glad.”

 

“Hey, don’t look like that,” Keith says, glancing away sheepishly, “I’m okay, really.”

Lance’s brow furrows, and he steps back. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, though it sounds like he’s really only trying to prove it to himself.

“Keith,” Shiro pipes up, taking his chance to throw his own two cents at Keith, “can I talk to you?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, following Shiro from the hangar.

He gets a lashing from Shiro, a desperate request for Keith to return to Voltron.

Keith lies and says he’ll consider it, and leaves Shiro feeling worse for wear. His feet carry him to Lance’s room, and Keith passes through the door before dropping his armour to the floor and crawling into bed next to Lance, grabbing a stray shirt and tugging it on somewhere along the way. Lance doesn’t move, keeping his back to Keith, so Keith wraps his arm around Lance’s waist, pressing his nose into the soft base of Lance’s neck. Keith inhales deeply, cherishing the scent of Lance’s soap, something exotic that he picked up on a swap moon with help from Allura.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers.

Keith opens his eyes and shifts his head, running his nose over Lance’s skin, “what for?”

Lance turns, flopping in his rush and jostling Keith. Keith blinks in surprise, but brings a hand back to Lance’s hip when the turn is completed.

“For taking Red. For not stopping you from joining the Blade. For not being here for you enough today.”

Keith frowns, squeezing Lance’s hipbone lightly, “none of that’s your fault. I’m glad I left Red to you, and I joined the Blade on my own. You tried to stop me and I ignored you. And I’m okay.”

“Keith,” Lance says earnestly, “I can’t-”

He falters, so Keith brings his hand to Lance’s cheek. Lance turns into the touch, pressing a kiss to Keith’s hand. He turns his head again, bringing his gaze back to Keith’s darkened features.

“I can’t stand by and let you go off with the Blade. I never have any idea as to what’s going on until you’re dying or back safely. I don’t like it.”

“Lance…” Keith starts, warning.

“No,” Lance protests, “I don’t care if this conversation doesn’t go well. I can’t let you go back to the Blades in good conscience.”

“Lance, forget it,” Keith says, “it’s where I _belong._ ”

“Because of your sword? Because you’re part Galra?” Lance asks, almost challenging.

Keith can’t help his scowl, “what would you know about it?” he taunts, “not all of us get everything on a gold platter.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re making me feel bad for finally belonging somewhere!” Keith accuses.

“No, I’m trying to make you see that you could _die._ ” Keith sits up, standing from the bed. He picks up a pair of Lance’s pyjama bottoms from the floor and tugs them on. He doesn’t want to be here right now, but he’s sure as hell not strolling into the hallway wearing just his boxers and one of Lance’s shirts. He’s got more dignity than that.

“If that’s what it takes,” Keith says, “then I’ll pay the price.”

“What about us back here?” Lance asks, standing, “did you ever stop and think there are people who care-”

“You’ll get over it!” Keith exclaims, “what’s more important, the entire universe, or your _feelings?_ ”

Lance crosses his arms. “Your life is worth so much. If you want to throw it away and hurt my _feelings,_ be my guest. But I can promise you now that you don’t have to die to prove anything.”

Keith glares at the door, making his way over to it.

“You’re useful here. _Alive._ One death won’t save the universe.”

Keith pauses.

“I can’t sit by while others die in my place,” he says.

“And I can’t sit by and watch you get hurt.” Lance says, “you’re so set on dying significantly that you forget the part where death is _permanent._ No healing pod for that.”

Keith groans, “I _know_ that. I’m not stupid!”

“And I’m not saying you are!” Lance retorts, “I’m asking you to come back here so you don’t have to die!”

“Just let me be!” Keith yells, “I can handle myself!”

“I don’t care what you think you can do, Keith!” Lance says, grabbing Keith’s shoulder and turning him so that he’s facing the full force of Lance’s eyes, “I’m asking you to take a second and look at the situation logically!”

“I am!” Keith shouts, “I’ve been looking at it logically the whole damn time!”

“Think about someone else, Keith. Think about your _brother._ Do you think he raised you just so you could go and get killed?”

“Fuck off, Lance!” Keith yells, “you have _no idea_ what you’re talking about, so just _fuck off!_ ”

Lance’s mouth twists like he wants to say something more but he’s holding back.

“Fine.” he says at long last, letting go of Keith and stepping back, “I don’t know what I’m talking about. But I’m right about there being a place for you here. Do whatever you want. I won’t stop you anymore.”

It feels like a terrible finality when Lance presses the button to open his door and turns away, collapsing onto his bed, curled up with his back to Keith.

Keith’s anger dissipates immediately, replaced with a deep regret. Stubbornly, he shoves the feeling away and storms out of Lance’s room, pausing only to gather his Marmora suit. He heads to his room and chucks the armour at the ground, angrily kicking it aside before dropping on his bed and curling up tightly. As much as he’d like to take out his leftover frustration on a gladiator, his heart is heavy, and moving seems like an impossible task.

Keith sighs.

At times like this, it was habit - instinctive, even, to seek out Shiro’s advice. Shiro always knows what can be done and how to fix a situation.

Keith rolls onto his back, gripping at his -- _Lance’s_ \-- shirt tightly.

Now, Shiro’s no help. He’s insistent on Keith staying with them, on Keith remaining with Voltron despite being completely useless.

Keith doesn’t want to be useless.

What’s he supposed to do?

✦✧✦

It’s several hours later when Kolivan pings Keith.

Keith’s running late, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to care. The only thing he really cares about right now is hurting, and that’s his fault, too.

_Lance._

Restless, Keith finally drags himself up from his bed with a sigh. He seems to be sighing a lot today.

Keith steps into his suit, clumsily tugging the armour up. Once he’s got it on, he presses on the wrist of his suit, the entire thing tightening around his body as the armour activates, lights turning on. Keith is forced to stand up straighter, his spine uncomfortable when he slouches.

He glances at his closet, the door still open and displaying a rack of undersuits for the Voltron armour. What a hassle it was to put the shiny cuirass, to snap on the different pieces for his arms and legs.

And yet… how _fun_ it had been.

Through the hardship and the frustration… being a paladin of Voltron had been _fun_. Maybe it was because he was with his friends, or maybe because Keith is borderline psychopathic - like a fellow cadet had said - and enjoys violence, or maybe it’s something else entirely that has to do with being meaningful. Being part of an elite force - being one of five on the front lines of battle, with people he barely knew existed _supporting_ him, versus being a nameless face in a crowd of masks that look almost identical.

Keith’s not sure what part of being a paladin was so different from being a “Marmorite,” as Lance had called it. He’s doing the same thing, fighting for rights and for the people of the universe.

Maybe it’s the way that he’d walk onto a swap moon and half a dozen people would be calling his name. Maybe it’s the way there was a real, personal connection to billions - no, _quintillions_ \- of beings. The way he was able to show them he was there, that he’s more than just another soldier.

That’s how he sees the rest of the paladins, at least.

Keith stares at the fabric of the undersuit in his hands, where the red symbol blazes on the chest. Keith reaches out at runs his fingers over the shape, deflating a little bit.

Maybe, he could-

“Keith?”

Keith whips around, but his door is still shut. He shoves the suit back into the closet and then presses the button to seal the memories away.

“Come in,” he calls back.

When the door opens, Lance is standing there, shrouded in light from the corridor.

Keith stares, apprehensive.

“Um,” Lance starts, reaching up to scratch somewhere above his left ear, “you should get headed back. Soon. Your alarm went off in my room so… I was just letting you know.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, glancing at the gap between himself and Lance, “I was just headed out now.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell everybody.” Lance nods, pausing with his mouth open, as though about to say something more.

Keith waits, but Lance shakes his head, smiling something bittersweet as he turns away. “Yeah,” he says, “I’ll grab everyone.”

“Lance, uh-” Keith lurches forward, cutting off. Lance turns back, cocking his head attentively.

Keith leans back, spine straight again, “uh,” he repeats.

“Yeah?” Lance asks, offering another bittersweet smile.

 _It’s forced,_ Keith realizes, _that’s why it’s so strained._

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking away.

Lance doesn’t say anything, so Keith continues.

“I’m not going to stay here, but… I don’t want to leave on bad terms.” Keith says, eyes skittering over Lance, eyes landing anywhere but on his face.

“Okay,” Lance says, reaching up for his ear again. He starts turning away again.

“Wait!” Keith cries, so Lance turns back.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh… I’m… Are we… okay?”

Lance blinks. “I’m not _mad_ at you.”

Keith sags with relief.

“But I hate what you’re doing. I wish you’d listen and stay here, _safe._ ”

“Nowhere’s safe,” Keith argues, “we’re fighting a war.”

“At least if you’re with us and you get stabbed, I can put you in a pod!” Lance exclaims, exasperated, “thinking of this realistically, death is a pretty likely outcome! If I die on the field I want to be able to say goodbye! And I don’t want to find out you were abandoned on some remote planet just because you didn’t make it back to the rendezvous point on time!”

“Lance…” Keith starts, but he falls short, looking away. What’s he supposed to say to that?

“I don’t want to lose you,” Lance huffs at last, “and if I have to, I want to be able to hold your hand and tell you I’ve got you. I don’t want you to be another statistic to the Marmora.”

Keith falls silent, still glaring at the floor.

“I’m trying to tell you that you’ve got a place here. On the field, in a lion- you _belong_ here.”

At that, Keith’s head snaps up.

“Don’t say that,” he says, trying to keep his voice from shrinking, “you’re only saying that so I’ll stay.”

“No,” Lance says, advancing, “I’m not.”

Keith frowns, brow drawing together.

Lance is only a step away now, and Keith fights the urge to close the distance and let himself be held, even if for only a second.

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Keith’s jaw clenches, and he swallows over the lump in his throat. He’s only ever wanted to belong somewhere, and now-

“Come back,” Lance says, “come home.”

Keith nods, stepping into Lance’s waiting embrace.

“I thought Earth was home,” he mumbles, cheek pressed against Lance’s collarbones.

“Home is wherever my family is. Wherever you are.”

“Oh,” Keith says, the thought only now occurring to him.

“What do you think?” Lance asks softly, voice muffled against Keith’s head.

“You,” Keith murmurs, “and the rest of the paladins. And Coran.”

Lance laughs at this, pressing a kiss to the top of Keith’s head.

“Where you belong,” he adds softly.

“Yeah,” Keith supposes, “where I belong.”

**Author's Note:**

> hOO boy I've been wokring on this for a while,,, since like,,, marCh??  
> It all started with "what if they were dating beforehand" and then "what if it was angsty" and then "what if keith forgoT" and THEN "what if it was iVERSON"  
> um??? not much else to say but shameless "yee to my haw" pickup lines that would 100% work on me
> 
> also what the fuCK SEASON 7 IS IN LIKE  
> 17 DAYS  
> AND SH A D A M / A D A S H I  
> A D A M  
> SHIRO IS BI G G A Y  
> I've been screaming nonstop for the last four days
> 
> Thanks for stoppin by! <3


End file.
